


Our Mutual Acquaintance

by NotesFromSarah



Category: Zorro (TV 1957)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Disney's Zorro, Drama, Enemies, Frenemies, Gen, Post-Canon, Revenge, Rivalry, Western, schemes, swashbuckling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26140567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotesFromSarah/pseuds/NotesFromSarah
Summary: Two prisoners are transferred to the penitentiary at Ensenada where a certain capitán interrogates them about their time in Los Angeles. What hatches there is a deadly plot of revenge that puts Zorro in the crosshairs of an auld acquaintance and his first foe. Features Ramón Castillo and Capitán Monastario. Disney's Zorro.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 7





	1. THE WARDEN

The day was dusty and clear as two prisoners, surrounded by a heavy military guard, were brought into the commander’s office at the regional penitentiary. The heat of the Baja California day stood in contrast to the ice-cold, blue eyes of the Ensenada prison warden.

“Welcome to Ensenada, we hope to provide you with a most comfortable stay.” The man’s smooth tone and friendly voice belied certain venom.

Ramón hitched a smile onto his face, playing it cool as always. “We are honored to be your guests, _señor_.” He gave a small, ironic bow.

The man smirked. “I am Capitán Enrique Sanchez Monastario, the warden of Ensenada prison. And you are,” Monastario looked over their transfer documents, “Ramón Castillo and Marcos Estrada, coming to me from the garrison at Los Angeles.”

Ramón suppressed a sigh. The warden was playing with them or else he would have just sent them directly to their cells. What did this smooth-talking _capit_ _án_ want from them?

“I see here a note on your orders of transfer,” Monastario continued, “that you were arrested for attempted robbery in the _pueblo de Los Angeles.”_ Monastario put aside the document and sat on the edge of his desk. “Tell me, how do you find Los Angeles these days?”

“We didn’t really see much of it,” Marcos began. “We were only there for-”

“-Some time,” Ramón cut in. “We stayed in the pueblo for some time. What do you wish to know, _señor_ warden?” The _capit_ _án_ wanted something they had, it would be best to use that to their advantage.

“Oh, nothing of consequence,” said Monastario in a casual tone. “Tell me, is the commander of the garrison there a fat sergeant?”

“ _S_ _í_ _,_ I believe his name is García.”

Monastario’s face twisted in disgust. Ramón exchanged glances with Marcos. They might be able to do something with this. Marcos’ eyes pleaded for him to play it safe, but Ramón Castillo was a gambling man.

“What else did you hear about in the pueblo, anything about the dons?” Monastario was angling for something specific.

“S _eñor_ warden, you know, my memory is not so good these days,” Ramón hoped Monastario caught his drift.

For a second it looked like Monastario was thinking about drawing his weapon and threatening them at sword-point. But the second passed and Monastario laughed. “You are an astute man, others might have run you through for such insolence.” Monastario passed a loving hand over the hilt of his sword. “Fortunately for you, you have fallen upon my tender mercies.”

Ramón relaxed a little. The warden was in a good mood it seemed. “As I was saying, my memory is not so good these days. Neither is Marcos’, we would gladly take whatever you can offer to refresh us.”

“Of course, gentlemen, of course.” Monastario spoke in his most docile tone. “Please, sit, make yourselves at home.” He gestured to the bench that stood along the wall. “Orderly!” he barked at one of the soldiers standing guard near the door, “Bring wine for the prisoners.”

“What about these chains?” said Marcos, lifting his wrists to show the manacles.

“ _S_ _eñor_ _es,_ I would love to free you, but there is this little matter of military protocol. I’m afraid I cannot unchain you until you are secured in a cell.” Monastario’s voice was fawning but he wasn’t about to tilt his power advantage to them in the slightest.

Ramón was beginning to get a sense for the man. He had some personal reason for wanting information out of Los Angeles, and certainly didn’t know anyone in the pueblo who would give it to him. If he played his cards right, and he always did, he could tell the warden just about anything and possibly get some sort of deal out of it.

“Now, _s_ _eñor_ _es,”_ Monastario said once they both had a cup of wine to cool their parched throats, “I’m sure your memories are refreshed and you can continue telling me about Los Angeles.”

Ramón put his cup aside. “You asked about the dons? Is there any particular don you wish to know more about?” Ramón didn’t know a thing about the dons in Los Angeles, but he was sure he could spin a convincing story or two all the same.

“Perhaps,” Monastario ground his teeth at the thought. “However, I am more interested to learn whether or not a certain _bandido_ still plagues the pueblo.”

Well, Ramón certainly didn’t know anything about local crime, but he supposed he could say something convincing about that too. “I heard many things, do you care to be more specific?”

Monastario rose from the desk and loomed over him. “Specifically,” he ground out, “a certain outlaw who calls himself El Zorro.”

“ _¡Zorro!”_ said Ramón, jumping to his feet so fast his wine cup went crashing to the floor. The wine staining both their boots.

Monastario jumped back, hand on his sword hilt.

“Not this again,” groaned Marcos, covering his face with his hand. “All the way from Los Angeles, two hundred miles and he doesn’t shut up about-”

“Zorro, yes I know a thing or two about him.” Ramón was incensed. “What do you know of him?”

Monastario had not expected such a violent reaction. “He is the reason I am even now a warden at this prison and not a garrison commander as I ought to be. He used his trickery to bamboozle the viceroy into removing me from my post in Los Angeles.” Monastario gripped the hilt of his sword wishing he once again had his blade to Zorro’s throat.

It all made sense now. This man, too, had been made a fool by Zorro. Diego was going to get his comeuppance one day.

“Orderly!” Monastario snapped at the guards, “leave us, I need a private audience with the prisoners.” The guards shuffled out of the office. “Now,” said Monastario, “tell me everything you know about Zorro.”

“Everything?” Ramón scoffed, “I can tell you anything you want to know about him. I could even tell you his name, but I doubt you would believe me. He has everyone in the pueblo completely fooled.”

Monastario released his sword hilt and irritably paced the floor. “Everyone but me, I saw right through him from the beginning. He, pretended to be a simple idiot, not knowing one end of the sword from the other, but it was all a ruse.” Coming around to the desk Monastario slammed his hand down on it. “If I _ever_ get my hands on him, he will rue the day.”

“You seem to have an idea of who he is,” said Ramón. “If you know, why don’t you arrest him?”

“Tricks!” Monastario slammed his hand down for a second time. “Tricks and cunning. He really is like his namesake. Full of guile and deception.”

“And you know his name, his real name, I mean.” Ramón seemed to have found a kindred spirit where Zorro was concerned.

“Of course I know his name,” Monastario spat. “Only I have been forbidden by the viceroy himself from suggesting the true identity of Zorro is the man I know it is.” Monastario turned back to his prisoners, looking at Ramón with new eyes. “You, yourself said that you knew the man’s true identity. Tell me who you think it is. I will know if you are lying to me.” Monastario’s hand found his sword hilt once more.

“Zorro,” Ramón said, sitting down again and pausing for effect, “is none other than Diego de la Vega.”

“I knew it!” Monastario shouted, triumphant. He turned to pace the room again. “Oh, if only I had a way to get my hands on him.” He wheeled around to face Ramón. “How did you find it out? What gave it away?”

Ramón shrugged. “I was on the fencing team at university with him for three years, all I had to do was see Zorro fence and I knew it was my old ‘friend’ Diego under that mask. His style is distinctive and he has some peculiar quirks.” Gauging Monastario he continued, “Also, he took off his mask and showed me his face.”

“He what?” Monastario didn’t believe that for a second. “You tread into lies to prove your point.”

“It is no lie. I saw his face with my own two eyes, didn’t I, Marcos?”

“Oh, yes, he will tell it to anyone that will listen that he saw Zorro’s face.” Marcos was still bitter about the entire Los Angeles scheme.

“And you, _s_ _eñor_ warden,” said Ramón, “how did you figure it out?” This man wanted revenge against Diego, that was for sure.

“I saw him duel a master swordsman and live to tell about it. Only a man with the skill of Zorro could have done such a thing.” Monastario turned away from Ramón again and resumed his pacing.

Marcos was sitting, head in hand, watching the two men compare notes about the one person whose name he never wanted to hear again. He really couldn’t catch a break.

“So, it seems to me that you know Zorro’s true identity, and I know Zorro’s true identity, and we both want revenge against him, so what are we going to do?” Ramón hoped that he was playing his cards right.

“Why do you want revenge against him?” Monastario eyed him.

“Zorro is the one that put us in these chains, he cooked up a scheme to frame us for attempted robbery and tricked the sergeant into playing along.”

“García was always a gullible fool,” Monastario interjected, pummeling his fist into his palm.

“Now,” continued Ramón, “all I want is to get out of these chains and teach Diego a thing or two.”

A rotten smile quirked the ends of Monastario’s lips. He no longer saw Ramón and Marcos, looking into the distance he was lost in thought. Reaching up he began to twist the ends of his mustache. “It seems then, _s_ _eñor,_ we have the same goal for our mutual acquaintance.”

Ramón sensed that his situation was about to improve dramatically. “What is it that you have in mind, _s_ _eñor_ warden? If it is a means to bring about de la Vega’s downfall, I am at your disposal.”

Coming back to the moment, Monastario looked at his prisoners again. “It seems that we have a great many things to discuss, gentlemen.”

* * *

“Capitán Monastario!” shouted the guard as he entered the warden’s office, “the prisoners from Los Angeles are not in their cell.”

“That can’t be,” said Monastario, feigning surprise. “Who fell asleep and let them escape?”

The guard gulped. “I do not know, _mi_ _c_ _apitán.”_

“Find out at once, and have that man shot for misconduct. Go saddle my horse, I will personally ride out to find them.”

“ _Sí,_ _mi_ _c_ _apitán.”_ The soldier bobbed his head. “Do you have any ideas where they might have gone?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” said Monastario, rising from his chair. A wicked smile playing about his face.

* * *

Night blanketed Ensenada. On the outskirts of the town, Ramón turned his horse northward.

“Ramón,” said Marcos, “where are you going, the ports are that way.” He gestured in a westerly direction.

“Marcos,” said Ramón, “you have been a good friend and traveling companion.”

“Oh, _D_ _ios!_ Ramón, not this again?” Marcos closed his eyes for a second as if praying to the saints for mercy.

“It is not ‘this again,’” said Ramón. “I have a score to settle.”

“Ramón, we have done well for ourselves up to this point. We will continue to do well if we go to South America like we originally planned before we ever got caught up in payrolls and Zorro.” Marcos tried to talk sense into his friend.

“Marcos, sometimes a man just has to do things a certain way, his honor will not allow him to do otherwise.”

“Honor,” Marcos scoffed. “When has honor ever provided a hot meal or a nice place to sleep, eh? We need to trade in something a little more real.” Marcos extended his hand in the dark, rubbing his fingers and thumb together to emphasize his point.

Ramón smirked at his friend. “Never change, _mi amigo._ If you are not coming with me, then I will catch up with you in South America.”

Marcos sighed, his friend wasn’t going to change his mind. “You had better be careful, or you could end up in an even worse place than the Ensenada prison.”

“I am always careful,” said Ramón. A blatant lie.

“No, I mean it, Zorro is still out there and he’s not going to be happy that you came back.” Marcos’ pleas were falling on deaf ears. “And that warden, I don’t trust him one bit.”

“Neither do I, but our interests are aligned so I am willing to give him a chance.” Ramón looked behind him, back towards the town. “We had better get going.”

“Fine,” said Marcos. “I hope I will see you in South America, but I will not be surprised one bit if you never make it because you got yourself killed chasing Zorro around that little pueblo.”

Ramón laughed. “You have such faith in me, friend. Goodbye and good voyage, I will see you in South America soon.”

Marcos raised his hand in farewell. “I hope this doesn’t come back to bite you.”

“Zorro is not the only one with fangs,” said Ramón as he gathered his reins in his hand. “This time I will have the upper hand and a secret weapon.”

Exchanging one last wave the two comrades went their separate ways. Marcos to the Ensenada ports, and Ramón to Los Angeles.


	2. ZORRO MEETS A RIVAL

A lone rider on a snow-white horse galloped along the dusty _Camino Real_ towards the  _pueblo de Los Angeles_ in the early hours of the day. The morning sun was just peeking up over the hills as the horseman entered town. 

Sergeant García, having just finished his morning ablutions and dressing himself in a clean and pressed uniform, paused in his quarters to admire himself in the mirror. He cut a fine figure of a man. Tall, dark, handsome. He brushed his bushy mustache thoughtfully, yes, one of these days he would be a good catch for some  _señorita._ Smiling to himself, he drummed his fingers on his stomach. A fine figure of a man indeed.

Entering his office he saw Corporal Reyes standing in front of the desk looking a little nervous. 

“What do you want already, the day has only just started?” García pulled out his chair and sat down at his desk, ready to look over the daily reports.

“There’s someone here to see you, I thought you would want to know first thing.” Reyes stood at García’s shoulder, leaning in.

“If it is Señor Gonzalez, tell him that I will pay him later.” García attempted to ignore the other man, he wanted him to go away, Gonzalez too.

“I do not think he wants you to pay him, sergeant.” Reyes tried again.

“Then what does he want? Señor Gonzalez only ever wants money from me.” García attempted to look busy by shuffling the papers on his desk.

“Oh, no, your visitor isn’t Señor Gonzalez at all,” said Reyes. “It is another man.”

“Then why didn’t you say so, _baboso!_ Tell me who wants to see me at once.” García stood, brushing past the corporal as he headed to the door.

“All right, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.” Reyes said as he followed García to the door, hovering near his arm. “He’s not one of your favorite people.”

“What are you talking about, stupid, I get along with everybody. There isn’t a man alive who doesn’t like me.” García reached for the latch.

“Well, maybe, but this man doesn’t like you, and I don’t think you like him either-”

Lifting the latch, García cut off his corporal’s ramblings. The door swung open and on the threshold stood none other than Capitán Enrique Sanchez Monastario.

“Gaaaahhh!” García exclaimed, stumbling backwards.

“Remember that time he threatened to have you shot?” Reyes reminded, unhelpfully.

“ _¡Baboso!_ It’s about time. What took you so long, were you busy stuffing your face?” Monastario pushed past him into the _comandante’s_ office. “I have important business and cannot afford to waste another second.” 

García continued to gape at him as Monastario removed his traveling cloak, hat and gloves, thrusting them into Corporal Reyes’ hands. Growing impatient with the sergeant he turned back to where he was standing by the door. “Idiot! I have much to discuss and not very much time. Are you an acting  _comandante_ or not? Invite me to sit so I can get on with my business. Get to it!” Monastario rested his hand on his sword, adding emphasis to his words.

“ _Sí, mi capitán,”_ García said reflexively. Scrambling to his desk he pulled out the chair usually reserved for guests. “Please, sit down. If I may ask, _capitán,_ why are you here, I mean, what brings you back to Los Angeles?”

Monastario rolled his eyes and took the proffered seat. “I am here because a dangerous criminal has escaped my prison at Ensenada. I have reason to believe that he is here in Los Angeles, so I will expect your full cooperation until he is recaptured.” Monastario reached into his coat and produced a sheaf of papers. “I have here orders from Colonel Suero, the territorial prison commander, that you are to aid me in any way I see fit.”

García gulped, taking the papers and inspecting Colonel Suero’s official seal. “Of course,  _mi capitán,_ whatever you need.”

“Good,” said Monastario, his smile icy. “Now, listen carefully as I tell you what you will do for me.”

* * *

That afternoon, Sergeant García and Corporal Reyes shuffled dejectedly to the tavern. It was impossible to say which was the most unhappy of the two.

“Sergeant,” said Reyes, “I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I, but what can we do?” García sighed heavily as they entered the inn.

“What if the orders aren’t real, do you suppose that maybe he just made them up?” Reyes seemed hopeful that this could be a simple case of military fraud.

“No, I don’t, _baboso_.” García looked around the tavern, hoping to see his friend. “For what reason would he do something like that?”

“I don’t know, I just thought maybe he might have.” Reyes shrugged.

At last, García spotted Diego in a corner of the tavern. The young man was sitting alone, relaxing like he so often did. Brightening, García made a beeline for the young don.  _“Buenos días,_ Don Diego.”

“ _Buenos días,_ sergeant, corporal.” Diego nodded to each of them. “Please, come sit with me.” He motioned to the empty chairs around the table.

“ _Gracias,_ Don Diego,” said García as he and Reyes joined him. 

“Tell me, sergeant, how does this beautiful day find you?” Diego flashed a smile as he motioned for the serving girl, the innkeeper’s eldest daughter, Lucía, to bring more wine and cups for the party.

“Oh, not good, Don Diego. The day started terribly and has only gotten worse from there.” García’s voice was filled with woe.

“You could even say that our luck has finally run out.” Reyes added, his own voice gloomy.

“I’m so sorry sergeant, why don’t you have a nice cup of wine and tell me all about it.” Diego poured a generous amount in the cups that had been brought for both the corporal and sergeant.

“ _Gracias,_ Don Diego,” García said. “It all started this morning when Capitán Monastario came to my office to see me.”

Diego blinked, his smile faltering as he put down the wine bottle. “Is this a dream you had, sergeant?”

“Oh, no,” said Reyes, looking up from his cup, “it’s true, I saw him too.”

“Surely you are joking,” Diego looked between their faces, his own cup forgotten. “Why would Monastario come here?”

“I only wish that I was joking, Don Diego, but sadly I am not.” García swirled the wine in his cup. 

“He is here searching for a criminal that escaped his prison,” Reyes filled in, “remember your friend from Spain? That man Castillo? He escaped.”

Diego sighed and closed his eyes. The day had started out so promising, now his night would certainly be filled with endless hours of work. Opening his eyes again, his face serious, he asked, “And he knows for a fact that Castillo has returned?”

“Oh, yes, Don Diego, but that’s not even the worst of it,” García added. “He has the authority to reassign any soldier he wants to be part of his personal detail while he is hunting Castillo.”

“ _Sí,”_ Reyes chipped in, “I am to be his personal assistant while he is in the pueblo.” The corporal leaned his head on his hand. “I don’t even know how to be an assistant.”

“It is the easiest thing, Corporal, you simply do for him those things which you do for me.”

“Oh,” said Reyes, perking up a bit. “That won’t be so bad.”

“Believe me,” said García, “it will be.”

“Can you do nothing?” Diego already knew the answer, but he had a spark of vain hope all the same.

“Except help him find Castillo and send them both back to Ensenada as quickly as possible? No, I’m afraid not, Don Diego.” The sergeant drained his cup, putting it back on the table with a soft thump. “Such is the life of a soldier, always to be at the beck and call of others.”

“Do you think it will take him long to find Ramón? Certainly the _capitán_ will not be in the pueblo for many weeks.” Diego hoped that Monastario’s stay would be brief and that he might not have much occasion to interact with him. But, then there was Ramón to consider.

“Oh, the _capitán_ is very confident that he will find his prisoner soon,” said García. “Still, he also told me to prepare myself for his potentially extended stay.”

“He is taking over the _comandante’s_ quarters since we have no other suitable housing for officers.” Reyes took a thoughtful drink from his cup. “Say, sergeant, where are you going to sleep?”

“In the noncommissioned officer’s quarters, of course.” García rolled his eyes at the obvious question.

“But, sergeant, I’m living in the noncommissioned officers quarters,” Reyes pointed out. “I don’t think there’s room for two of us in there.”

“There’s not, and you’re not,” said García, pointedly. “While the _capitán_ is here I will be living in your quarters, and you will be living in the barracks with the other men.”

Reyes took a moment to process this information. “Yes, sergeant,” he sighed.

Diego, amused by the exchange, smiled down at his cup. The sergeant and the corporal made quite the pair at times. “Tell me, sergeant,” he said, looking up at his friend again, “why would Ramón come back to Los Angeles? What reason would he have for returning?”

“That’s just the thing, Don Diego, the _capitán_ thinks that he has come here to enact a plot of revenge on the very same person who put him in chains.” García leaned forward so that his words wouldn’t be overheard. “The _capitán_ thinks he might have even come to kill him.”

“Sergeant,” said Diego, voice filled with alarm, “you don’t mean he’s come to kill you?”

García almost nodded before Diego’s words sunk in. “Oh, no, Don Diego, I don’t mean me.” He laughed, “The  _capitán_ informs us that Castillo has returned to kill Zorro.”

Diego sat back in his chair, it was more or less what he’d expected to hear. Ramón had a score to settle and he wasn’t going to miss an opportunity get even. Diego considered that removing his mask and showing Ramón his face during their last meeting might have been a bad idea after all. Yes, Ramón had figured it out just from fencing him, but there was a difference in knowing something to be true, and  _knowing_ something to be true. Already he was a thousand miles away considering all the possibilities. Ramón would make his presence known very soon, he would bet his life on that.

“Don Diego?” García’s voice brought him back to the present. 

“Yes, sergeant?” Diego tried to put thoughts of Ramón out of his mind. He would have to wait until later to sort out that particular problem.

“Do you think you might...” García trailed off as he held up the empty wine bottle.

Diego laughed softly. “Of course, sergeant, it seems that the coming days will be most uncomfortable for you, so you had best enjoy what comforts you do have.”

“ _Gracias,_ Don Diego, you are exactly right.” García smiled, pleased that his friend was so understanding and generous. 

“Lucía,” Diego called to the serving girl, “another bottle for my good friends.”

“ _Sí,_ Don Diego,” she said, bobbing a little curtsy. 

Bernardo slipped into the tavern, pausing to scan the tables for Diego. Seeing his friend, he wended his way past the people filtering in and out of the tavern. He had just learned some news that Diego had to know immediately. Approaching the table he waved, trying to get Diego’s attention.

“Hello, little one,” García greeted him with his usual smile. 

Bernardo waved a greeting to García and Reyes, then turned to Diego and motioned for him to come with.

“Is my father looking for me?” Diego asked, looking up from his conversation.

Bernardo motioned talking, then pointed to Diego.

Diego got the idea. Rising, he turned to his drinking companions and said, “If you will excuse me, sergeant, corporal, I have some business to attend to.” Looping his hat strap over his head he tightened the slider until it rested comfortably under the knot of his tie. Then, nodding to the soldiers he headed towards the door, Bernardo a step behind. 

Pausing by the door, Diego glanced around the room before whispering to his servant, “Did you hear the news about our friend the  _capitán?”_

Bernardo nodded.

“So did I,” Diego and Bernardo exchanged a grim look. “If we’re lucky we just might be able to avoid him.” Pulling open the door, Diego found himself face-to-face with Monastario.


	3. FOXHUNT HOLLOA

“De la Vega,” Monastario growled.

Part of Diego wanted to glower at him in return. His presence in the pueblo was absolutely unexpected and unwanted. But, matching his mood wouldn’t have half the effect that feigning the opposite would. Diego broke into a pleasant grin. “Why, _capitán,_ it is good to see you again.”

This line had exactly the intended effect. “Don’t you even start with me, de la Vega.” Monastario could barely contain himself.

“Oh, _capitán,_ you will have to excuse me,” Diego said cheerily, “I’m afraid I have some business to take care of at the moment, or else I would invite you to sit with me. Will you be in town long?” Diego knew exactly what he was doing, and he loved it.

If Monastario could have spat poison, he would have. “I will be here as long as it takes to recapture the missing prisoner, I believe he’s a close friend of yours from university, Ramón Castillo.”

Diego’s smiled slipped a touch. If Monastario knew that Ramón was his friend from university then Ramón had told him so.

“I believe the two of you even went in for sports together, you must be quite close.” Monastario sensed he had a slight advantage and was ready to press it.

“Oh, not at all, just a fellow I knew in passing.” Diego kept his voice light as he lied. He and Ramón had known each other quite well. Ramón knew where he lived, his father’s name, and was even acquainted with Bernardo. Diego knew much the same information about Ramón, too. Hardly someone a person knows only in passing.

“Is that so.” Monastario’s voice was polite, but frigid. “That is not the impression I got from him at all when I interrogated him at the Ensenada prison. He told me very many interesting things about you.”

That confirmed it. Monastario wasn’t only here for Ramón, if he was here for him at all. The _capitán_ had come to finally get his revenge. Diego found himself shifting from irritated, to intrigued. “As I said, _capitán,_ I have many things to do today.”

“Like play chess with Padre Felipe?” Monastario quirked an eyebrow as he asked, giving his face a semblance of sincerity. “Or do you only frequent yourself at the mission when you are aiding and abetting a traitor?”

“Good day, _capitán,_ perhaps we can continue this conversation another time.” Diego gave him an almost microscopic nod and brushed past him, Bernardo at his heels.

The entire tavern went quiet as Monastario stepped across the threshold. He smirked at the wide-eyed silence from the patrons and the owner. Not a soul spoke as he sat at the closest empty table and rapped on it sharply. “Inkeeper,” he shouted into the speechless room, “I want service.” The innkeeper jumped, pushing Lucía forward to take his order. Monastario gave an ice-cold grin. It was good to be back.

* * *

Ramón surveyed his new quarters, if that’s what you could call them. Of course, he couldn’t go into town and stay at the inn, but this was so much worse than he had imagined. The barn was in good enough shape to keep the elements out, but that was about it. There was certain to be mice and bugs in the scattered straw, and he didn’t even want to think of the possibility of snakes. The worn out shutters let in a little too much light for his liking, but without it he would be completely in the dark since he had not even a candle to illuminate the area. If everything went according to plan, and that was a big _if_ since Diego was involved, then he shouldn’t have to stay here more than a week. He hoped this _capitán_ could do more than talk a big game.

Unsaddling his horse, he spread his belongings on the floor. He had with him a moth-eaten blanket he had taken when he “escaped” the Ensenada prison, and precious little else. Tonight, when he went to the mission, he would have to use his thieving skills to appropriate a few more things that might make his stay in the barn a touch more comfortable.

“Well, Saturno,” he said, patting his buckskin on the rump, “it seems that the two of us have become roommates. Try not to snore at night.”

Saturno snorted noncommittally.

Ramón gave a harsh laugh and petted his horse affectionately. He wondered how long it would be before he saw Diego. Somehow, Diego always got the information he needed at just the right time, Ramón hoped he was getting such information even now. He itched to cross blades with him again. Speaking of which, he unsheathed his sword, looking at the blade. It was made from the best Toledo steel. The weight was perfect, the blade flexible and lightning fast. He had managed to convince Monastario that he needed this particular blade back when they had arranged the escape, he couldn’t wait to put it to use against Diego.

Looking at the barn again, he sighed and picked up a forgotten rake leaning against the wall. If he was going to live here it might as well be livable.

* * *

“What do you mean Monastario is back?” Alejandro couldn’t have sounded more shocked. “I thought we had gotten rid of him for good. What on earth is he doing here? If he thinks he’s staying, he’s got another thing coming!”

Diego was sitting in an armchair by the fireplace. He couldn’t help but give a small smile at his father’s outrage. The action only seemed to provoke his father.

“This isn’t funny, Diego. That man not only shot me in cold blood, but tried to kill you, publicly, in front of the viceroy!” Alejandro began pacing around the _sala_.

“I remember, Father,” said Diego, his lips now showing no trace of amusement. “But there is more, it seems that today is fated to be an unlucky one for me.”

“More? What else could possibly go wrong?” Alejandro paused his pacing to look over at his son.

Diego caught his father’s eye. “The reason he has come to the pueblo is that he is searching for an escaped prisoner. Monastario has come here to recover him and take him back to Ensenada.”

“Why would an escaped convict come all the way to Los Angeles instead of hoping on the first ship at the Ensenada ports? This makes no sense. It is most certainly a lie. Monastario is here to cause some trouble, that is clear enough.” Alejandro came to stand in front of his son.

“Because the man in question is Ramón Castillo. I believe he has returned to get his revenge.”

“What?” Alejandro was floored a second time. “How can this be?”

“I believe that Monastario and Ramón are working together in this. They have some plot afoot and they want their pound of flesh from Zorro.” Diego looked into the distance, thinking about what Monastario had said to him at the inn. The reference to the mission made him wonder.

“Diego, you must be very careful. If these men are working together you will be in great danger,” Alejandro cautioned.

“Father, I could outsmart the pair of them blindfolded.” Diego was perhaps being a touch vain, but he felt confident in his assessment. “I am more concerned about what sort of trouble they will get up to in an attempt to draw Zorro out.”

“What do you mean?” Alejandro sat down, finally. “What could they possibly do? Ramón is a wanted man, known to all the pueblo, and Monastario is here only in his capacity as a prison warden.”

Diego drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “I do not know exactly what they are planning, but I am certain it will involve the mission somehow. Monastario made a point of mentioning it earlier, I know he was baiting his trap by bringing it up.” Diego continued tapping his fingers on the chair. “I think tonight, Zorro rides to the mission.”

* * *

Monastario rode to the mission in the late afternoon. The trap was baited, now all he had to do was spring it. Accompanying him was Corporal Reyes and a handful of lancers. This time Zorro wasn’t going to get away.

“What is the meaning of this?” Padre Felipe demanded as Monastario and his soldiers came to the mission doors. “I thought you were done harassing our people for good.”

Monastario gave him an icy smile. “I am searching for an escaped prisoner, I have information that he might be hiding at the mission even now.”

“That is ridiculous,” said Padre Felipe, “the only people that are here are those that ought to be. Unless you are once more hunting law-abiding citizens claiming them to be criminals.”

“You speak very boldly, Padre.” Monastario never did like the man. “I am searching for a fleeing convict, and I expect your full cooperation in this matter.”

“I will not cooperate with injustice.” Padre Felipe was as stubborn as he ever had been.

Monastario crossed his arms, frustrated but not surprised. “Then I am afraid I will have to put you under military guard while we are here. For your protection, of course.”

“Of course,” Padre Felipe said dryly.

Monastario motioned to Corporal Reyes. “Put the padre under guard in the rectory, he will not prevent us from catching the criminal this time.”

Corporal Reyes moved to take Padre Felipe’s arm. Pausing, he turned to Monastario. “What do you mean ‘this time,’ _capitán?_ Isn’t this the first time that you are hunting Castillo?”

“ _¡Baboso!”_ Monastario snapped. “Take the padre to the rectory, do not let him out of your sight. Do not let him see another person, and keep him quiet. If you disobey my orders I will personally have you flogged.”

“ _Sí, mi capitán.”_ Reyes scrambled, throwing a hasty salute. “Please, Padre, will you come with me?”

Padre Felipe gave Monastario one last dirty look before nodding. “Of course, Corporal, right this way.”

The two men shuffled off towards the rectory. Monastario turned to face the other men. “I want all of you to spread out and form a perimeter. You are not to let anyone through but Zorro. Once he is inside the mission you are to sound the alarm and that bandit will be ours.” Monastario’s fingers tapped on his sword hilt. He could almost taste victory. Without the bumbling incompetence of Sergeant García, he just might stand a chance of catching Zorro this time.

The lancers blinked in surprise for a second, after all they were supposed to be hunting the escaped convict Ramón Castillo, not Zorro. _“Capitán,”_ said Lugo, “I thought we were here to catch Castillo, not Zorro.”

“You will catch who I tell you to catch,” Monastario shouted. “Do as I tell you.”

The lancers exchanged glances for another moment.

“Now!” barked Monastario, sending the men scrambling to obey orders. Monastario gazed around the churchyard. Zorro had bested him here before, but not this time. Stroking his beard he began to formulate a plan every bit as cunning as the fox.

* * *

It was just after twilight when Zorro left for the mission. His black cape billowed behind him as Tornado galloped down _El Camino Real._ The mission bells rang out in the distance, marking the evening hour.

Zorro was unsure what sort of trouble he was about to ride into, but he was certain there would be trouble. Monastario and Ramón were here for revenge and the two of them together could certainly make his life a bit difficult. He wanted to know what they were after, what shape their revenge would take, and what damage they might cause in the meantime. Ramón was cunning and Monastario cruel. He smiled to himself as he rode. While this intrusion was an inconvenience, after all he didn’t exactly relish trouble finding him or Los Angeles, he was eager to test his mettle against two of his greatest rivals. What had they learned during their time apart?

Gently kicking Tornado he urged him along faster. Whatever it was, whatever they had planned, he was confident he was up to the task. With a little bit of effort he had bested each of them before. Both of them together? Now that was a challenge. Laughing, Zorro raced through the dusky countryside, the mission looming before him.


	4. A BROTHER'S BETRAYAL

Ramón slipped into the mission yard. The dull soldiers standing guard were unsurprisingly easy to bypass. The cream of the Spanish military was certainly not posted in California. He left his horse, Saturno, tied to a tree a little distance from the mission just so it wouldn't be noticed by the one soldier with half a brain cell.

Not entirely sure of how missions were generally laid out, Ramón crept around the complex looking for a likely place. He had two goals tonight. First: Catch Zorro. Second, failing at the first goal, steal enough money or other valuables so that he could be more comfortable as he continued to bring about the first goal. Or, alternatively, to fund his way out of town if everything went sour. He and the _c_ _apitán_ might be working together, but that didn't mean Monastario was helping or supporting him in any way. Their arrangement was one of convenience and nothing more.

Ramón knew churches always had lots of money and other valuables, he just had to figure out where they might be kept. Entering the church proper, he saw there was a side door leading off of the nave. An office perhaps, where perhaps tithes and donations might be counted and stored. Ramón snuck over to the office, no light shone from beneath the door. Taking that as a good sign, Ramón eased the door open, taking great pains to do so quietly. It seemed the mission neophytes maintained the church well as the hinges gave forth not even the slightest sound. This was about to be his lucky day.

Entering the dark room he closed and bolted the door behind him. Taking his tinderbox from his jacket pocket, he struck a light. A desk close at hand had a pair of candlesticks on it. Lighting one of the tapers, he stowed his tinderbox again and began to search the desk. If there was gold to be had in this mission, odds were that he'd find it here. Monastario had also mentioned something about a crown of jewels, once he was done here he might have a look at that too.

Finding the desk drawer locked, he snatched the letter opener off the desk and began to pry at it. A person only locks something up if they think it's valuable. The drawer wobbled a bit under his attack, clearly the lock wasn't very robust. Smiling to himself, he kept jimmying the drawer. Just as the thing was on the verge of breaking he felt the tap of a sword blade on his shoulder. Ramón froze.

" _Hola,"_ said a familiar voice.

Ramón dropped the letter opener, turning slowly to face the man he'd traveled more than two hundred miles to see.

"Diego," he said with a casual air, "it is so good to see you again."

Zorro tapped Ramón's shoulder with his blade. "I'm afraid I can't say the same about you."

"Diego, your words cut me more than your blade ever has." Ramón's voice was steeped in sincerity. Pushing the blade from his shoulder Ramón gave Zorro a look of mock hurt.

Zorro lowered his blade, but kept it pointed in Ramón's general direction. "Why are you back here."

Ramón smiled. "I think you know."

Zorro took a step back, raising his sword. "This is only going to end as it did last time."

Ramón also stepped back, drawing his sword. "No, Diego, this time you will not be able to cheat. This time I will win."

The two men saluted each other. Then, lunging forward, Zorro attacked. Ramón parried. The two pushing back and forth against each other, making their way around the cramped room. Ramón slashed his sword, Zorro ducked. Ramón's sword caught a stack of books on a cabinet, sending the volumes scattering across the floor. Zorro jumped back from the book avalanche then lunged towards Ramón. Again Ramón parried, then followed with a riposte. Zorro skipped backwards, avoiding the blade.

Laughing, he said, "If you had fought this well in Spain you might have kept that trophy."

* * *

Private Lugo leaned against the wall of the mission waiting for someone to show up, either Zorro or Castillo, he wasn't sure which one he was waiting for exactly. If things went like they normally did Castillo would turn up somewhere and Zorro would show up to catch him. If Sergeant García was in charge the situation would end there. They would capture Castillo and Zorro would ride into the night on his black horse.

Capitán Monastario, however, was nothing like Sergeant García. Lugo suspected that Monastario would let Castillo get away and insist the soldiers chase Zorro. Mentally, Lugo prepared himself for a long fruitless night of chasing Zorro in the hills. Thinking about it exhausted him already. If he was under the command of any officer except Monastario he might have risked a nap, just to be as fresh as possible for the night ahead. Monastario, however, was not a stranger to having soldiers punished severely for sleeping on duty. Lugo sighed. Maybe he should walk the perimeter again.

Strolling along the perimeter, Lugo didn't see anything noteworthy. The night was deepening and the air was beginning to cool. He wished he was back at the pueblo, maybe having a nice cup of wine over a game of cards. Monastario's presence would guarantee that it would be many nights before he could enjoy his cards and drink again.

His stroll brought him under the window of Padre Felipe's office. Pausing, he saw a light through the open window. _Padre Felipe must be studying some matter,_ Lugo thought, continuing his perimeter walk. The sound of steel on steel rang through the window, halting Lugo's steps again. _That sounds like dueling,_ Lugo thought. _Why is Padre Felipe dueling someone?_

An instant later he realized what was happening. "Lancers! Lancers! Come quickly to Padre Felipe's office!" he bellowed. Racing into the church he ran to the office door. Finding it locked he began to pound on it, attempting to force bolt.

The other four lancers came running into the church. "In here," said Lugo, gesturing towards the door, "they are in here."

The other lancers joined him, and after three tries, succeeded in breaking the lock, sending the door flying open.

Zorro and Ramón stopped mid-fight, startled by the sudden appearance of the soldiers.

"Capture him," said Lugo, drawing his sword and pointing it into the room.

The other lancers looked unsure. "Which one?" said Delgado.

Lugo didn't know. "Both of them?" he said.

The knot of soldiers charged.

Zorro and Ramón spun to fend off the interlopers. Shoulder to shoulder, they pushed back against the crowding soldiers. Trading blows with the lancers, Ramón and Zorro attempted to split the group and make it to the door. The soldiers maintained a tight formation, resisting their attempts.

Falling back, Zorro and Ramón wordlessly tried a new strategy. Breaking formation, soldiers stumbled through the small room following the two men. Scooping a book off the desk Zorro threw it as hard as he could.

Delgado grunted as it made contact with his head. Losing his balance he crashed to the floor.

The distraction caused the other four lancers to pull up short. It was all the chance Zorro and Ramón needed. Jumping the desk, Zorro disappeared through the window, Ramón only seconds behind him.

Outside the office, the two men ran in opposite directions. Lugo ran to the window, seeing which way Zorro went. "He's heading to the cemetery."

Seconds later, five soldiers sprinted towards the cemetery at top speed. Zorro scrambled up the wall, dropping flat as the report of several gunshots echoed through the night air. Springing to his feet again he ran the length of the wall before jumping down on the outside, finding himself practically in Lugo's arms. It seemed he was starting to get predictable.

The two grappled for a moment. Zorro hefted a kick against the soldier, sending him sprawling. Another lancer jumped off the wall, landing behind him. Attempting to grab hold of him, the lancer lunged forward. Zorro dodged to the side and the lancer crashed into Lugo headfirst.

Zorro ran for it. The lancers scrambled for some moments trying to figure out what had happened, then took off in pursuit. Running around the mission he slipped through the church doors. Quickly genuflecting and crossing himself he sprinted to the confessional that was situated against the wall not far from the doors on the right-hand side. Slipping into the booth, he pulled the curtain covering the opening back into place, hoping that the soldiers would search the church in their typical low-effort style.

The heavy boots of soldiers clattered into the nave, from the sounds of it all five lancers were there. They spent some moments whispering loudly before they shuffled away to search another part of the building. Zorro breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps this day wouldn't be so unlucky after all.

The door to the church opened again. There was silence for a moment, then footsteps making their way towards the confessional. Peering through the gap between the curtain and the booth wall, Zorro caught a glimpse of a brown robe. One of the padres, apparently coming to see what damage the soldiers had caused.

The padre paused near the booth. "Hello?" he whispered.

"Forgive me, Padre, I only needed a place to hide for a moment." Zorro pulled aside the curtain and stepped out of the booth.

The padre nodded, keeping his head down. "Come with me," he whispered again, motioning for Zorro to follow him.

Zorro followed the monk to the door of the church, a certain unease settling on him. "I must confess, Padre, I do not think we have met before, I am well acquainted with all the brothers at the mission."

The monk stopped. "I will accept that as your last confession, Zorro." Zorro realized it was a trap just as the padre tossed back his hood, the monk revealed himself to be none other than Monastario.

Zorro sprang back from the _capitán_ as he lunged forward. The two men grappled, each trying to find some advantage over the other. Zorro grabbed a handful of the robe Monastario was wearing, the robe came away revealing his pristine captain's uniform. Drawing his sword, Monastario slashed at Zorro. Zorro dived over the closest pew, landing rather awkwardly on the stone floor.

"You're not getting away from me that easily, de la Vega!" Monastario charged after him.

Zorro drew his own sword, meeting the captain in the church aisle. Crossing swords, the two beat away at each other with incredible speed. Back-and-forth they went, the sound of steel on steel reverberating through the nave. Monastario thrust. Zorro parried, then came back with the riposte. Monastario feinted. Zorro advanced. Their blades locked.

Zorro laughed. "Your skills have diminished since you've been away, I find you to be out of practice."

Flushed with rage, Monastario pushed against Zorro, breaking the lock. Zorro came back with a series of quick, complicated maneuvers that sent Monastario's sword sailing from his hand.

Zorro pointed his blade at Monastario's throat. "Do you yield?"

Monastario was furious. He stood there, helpless, completely at Zorro's mercy.

Zorro tapped his neck lightly. "I said, do you yield?"

"Yes," Monastario snarled.

Zorro smiled, drawing his blade downward to emblazon a 'Z' on Monastario's chest with three quick strokes. The sound of soldiers' feet could be heard outside the church door, this was Zorro's cue to leave.

"Good evening, _capitán,_ perhaps we can continue this another time." Sheathing his sword he made a break for it just as the soldiers entered the church for the second time.

"After him!" shouted Monastario, fit to be tied after his humiliation. "I want him dead!"

Not daring to question their enraged captain, the soldiers ran after Zorro at top speed.

Skidding into the sacristy, Zorro slammed the door and shot the bolt home. A second later he heard the sound of soldiers crashing into a door that unexpectedly withstood their attempt to open it. Laughing to himself, Zorro unbarred the small window high in the wall and a second later was outside the mission once again.

He was out of breath and exhausted, but now was not the time to slow down. Whistling for Tornado, he crouched in the shadows by the church wall waiting for his trusted steed to find him. A moment later the shadowy black form of his horse materialized out of the gloom. Gratefully mounting his steed, he put heels to Tornado's flanks. "Let's go home, boy, Zorro has done all that he can tonight.

Tornado gave a soft whinny then dashed away into the night.


	5. LIE DOWN WITH DOGS

Ramón woke quite early the next morning. He had made a bed for himself in the small loft that occupied a portion of the barn. He had made it in a certain way so that a person would not be able to see him unless they climbed all the way into the loft themselves. It was just a little precaution he had taken in case someone were to discover him here. He felt confident that Diego would find him here eventually. They always had a way of finding each other again.

He was stiff and sore from the previous night's activities. Sure, the fencing hadn't been too bad, but all the running about and dodging soldiers, that sort of thing was not his forte. He didn't know how Diego did it. The life of a _bandido_ was not an easy one.

Taking a moment, he sorted through the things he had appropriated the night before. His prize from last night was a rifle some hapless soldier had dropped in the dark. Ramón had stumbled upon it as he fled the mission, and far be it from him to turn his nose up at a gift from heaven dropped at his feet. He would need to get some gunpowder and shot, but those things could be acquired easily enough.

The other things were of limited interest. A few coins he snuck out of the poor box, a handful of blank sheets of paper and a pencil. Slipping a sheet of paper and the pencil into his pocket he went back to the other items. Picking up the coins he flipped one in the air, catching it and quickly pressing it to the back of his other hand. _Heads or tails_ , he mentally wagered. His gut told him tails. Lifting his hand he saw the coin showing heads. Shrugging, he turned the coin over to tails, then tucked it into his pocket. He always believed that a man had to make his own luck and today would be his lucky day.

Picking up Saturno's saddle, he was careful to avoid a section of the barn floor that seemed to have been afflicted by dry rot. No matter what he did, it couldn't change the fact that this barn really was a dump. Saddling Saturno, Ramón rode out, heading in the direction of the pueblo. A man could survive in the wilderness for only so long before he needed the creature comforts to which he was accustomed.

Entering the outskirts of the pueblo, Ramón made his way with a certain amount of caution. People hardly seemed to notice him. He supposed that perhaps he had not made such a big impression on them during his last visit. Of course, most people are too busy with their own lives to care about anyone else, so it seemed possible he might fly under the radar as long as he avoided a few key individuals.

Leaving his horse hitched in an alley somewhat off the beaten path, Ramón made his way to the center of town, if you could call it that. The outskirts of the town were barely further out than the center. It was hard to believe that Diego came from a little backwater like this.

Coming around the back wall of the inn, Ramón froze. There on the patio, dressed in the splendid raiment of the early morning sun was a goddess. Hair, black as night, swept over her shapely shoulder in a dark braid. Her dark brown eyes sparkled with pure sunlight. Her lips curved pleasantly, her face, round and beautiful. Her neat _camisa_ and skirt belied a comely form. Gracefully, she bent and poured water into the various plant containers spotted around the patio. Before him was a vision of Demeter dispensing life upon the earth. He was instantly entranced.

" _Señorita,"_ he said, coming through the gate. All thought of subtlety abandoned. "You are as radiant as this morning's sun. Just by gazing at you, I find myself scorched."

Lucía was taken aback by such fine words. She glanced around the patio just in case this man was talking to some other girl. _"_ _Señor,"_ she stuttered out upon finding no one else, "you flatter me."

Ramón smiled, taking her words as encouragement. Crossing the patio he relieved her of the pitcher she was holding and took her hands into his own. _"_ _Señorita,"_ he said, his voice was sweet and ardent, "you must tell me your name at once. Only that one word will soothe the fire in my heart."

Lucía flushed, unsure where to look, finally deciding on casting her eyes to the ground. "My name is Lucía, _señor."_ Not knowing what else to do she bobbed a shy curtsy.

"Lucía," Ramón almost sang the word. "Lucía, Lucía, Lucía. A radiant name for a radiant woman." Raising her hand to his lips he kissed it fervently.

Lucía glanced up at him, giving him a tentative smile. She had never had such attentions before, certainly not from someone as good-looking as the man before her. His boldness and poetic words impressed her a great deal. Her heart pounded as he lowered her hand from his lips like it was a sacred object. _"_ _Señor,_ you speak such words to me and I do not even know who you are."

"Me?" Ramón gazed into her deep brown eyes. "I am but a slave, doomed to worship forever at your temple. My name – lost to time. My libations to you – innumerable."

Lucía really had no idea what to make of that. She hadn't the faintest idea who this mystery man was or why he would be speaking words of love to her of all people. _"_ _Señor,_ you almost frighten me with such ardent words."

Ramón opened his mouth but the voice of the innkeeper overrode his words.

"Lucía," Gonzalez called, "come in at once, there is much to do."

Lucía hesitated, her hands still entwined with the stranger's. "I must go." Disentangling their hands she reached for her pitcher again.

Ramón picked it up for her, holding it out for her to take. "I will see you again."

Lucía paused a second longer, deliberating. Finally, she took the pitcher and nodded. Then, without another word or a backwards glance she hastened into the inn.

Ramón watched her retreating form until she disappeared through the back door.

"She is a nice girl, Ramón, leave her alone."

Ramón spun on his heel to see Diego, leaning against the wall by the gate, arms crossed. One thing was for certain, Diego took full advantage of playing on his home turf.

"How long have you been there?" Ramón was a little put out at the thought he had been observed.

"Long enough." Diego straightened and walked over to Ramón. "Do not try and charm that girl, Ramón, she does not need your kind of trouble in her life."

Recovering from the surprise of seeing Diego, Ramón relaxed and flashed a smile. "Lucía is as beautiful as the morning sun, it is only right that I should worship her."

"The morning may be beautiful, but clouds are gathering in the distance," Diego said, gesturing towards the mountains, "and the storm will come tonight."

Ramón crossed his arms, giving Diego a patient smile. "Are you going to report me to your sergeant friend?"

"No," said Diego, nodding to the inn where Lucía had disappeared, "but she might."

Ramón closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, not my Lucía. She would never betray me like that."

"She is not yours, Ramón. Leave her be." The last thing any of the girls in the pueblo needed was to become enmeshed in Ramón's schemes.

"Diego," said Ramón, patting Diego's shoulder, "you should stop worrying about her and start worrying about yourself."

"Oh?" said Diego, lifting an eyebrow, "What do I have to worry about?"

Ramón laughed. "You really are unbelievable sometimes, you know that?"

"I ran into your friend the _capitán_ yesterday." Diego hoped that Ramón might be a tad more forthcoming than Monastario had been the previous day.

Ramón gave an expression of distaste. "My friend? No, Diego, you are my friend. Monastario is a means."

"You know what they say about lying down with dogs." Diego crossed his arms.

"I already have a very particular itch, and I intend to scratch it until it bleeds." Ramón crossed his arms as well.

"Why are you here, Ramón?" Diego could play these word games with Ramón all day, but unfortunately he didn't have the time.

Ramón's expression darkened. "I am here to clear my name, Diego. When I can show the world who you really are, then I am innocent of the crime you framed me for."

Diego shook his head. "Ramón, you have been and will remain many things, but innocent is not one of them. Or, did you forget all the attempted robberies?"

Ramón brushed aside Diego's reminder. "That was all Marcos' doing. I like the fellow, but he's a little too focused on material things. Besides, I was not sent to jail for those other things, I was sent to jail because you," Ramón jabbed a finger in Diego's direction, "decided to play your little games."

"Ramón, I won. Leave it be." There were times that Diego couldn't believe the lengths Ramón would go to in order to best him.

"You won, but you cheated. This is our rematch." Ramón's expression was smug.

"Ramón, this will only end the way it did before." Diego's tone was calm, but it held an edge.

"No, Diego. Last time I anticipated you acting as a man of honor. This time I know better. You've changed out here. You think you've got the whole world fooled, but not me. No, I know what goes on inside your head." Ramón tapped the side of his own head for emphasis.

Diego hated to admit it, but Ramón was at least partially right. It was probably because they had spent so much time fencing each other in Spain. Fencing was as much a psychological sport as it was a physical one and the two of them had spent three years trying to get into each other's heads. Diego could predict Ramón's actions with precision and ease, and Ramón could unfortunately do the same to him.

"Ramón, I am not playing games with you anymore," Diego said. "If you know what's good for you, you will take this opportunity to leave town and make your way to South America or wherever you are going next."

Diego's words were both warning and threat. Ramón smirked. He was starting to get under Diego's skin.

"Diego, my friend, I am afraid you have no choice in the matter. I've set the rules for this match and you can either play along, or forfeit." Ramón leaned in, dropping his voice. "And I know you would never allow yourself to forfeit."

He was right. If it were somebody else, someone he was confident would not stir up other trouble, Diego might have just ignored him. Ramón was a different beast, however. He had few limits and was willing to do anything to score a win. There was also the part of Diego that couldn't help but want to match wits with Ramón. Their long-running rivalry had produced wins and losses on both sides, there was a part of him that wanted to see who the victor would be – once and for all.

Squashing down his instinct to indulge in such games, Diego pointed towards the inn door. "Ramón, I am going inside the tavern. I will be sitting there for probably half an hour. When I come back out, I don't want to see any trace of you, or else some of my friends from the _cuartel_ may hear about our conversation this morning."

"Always the gentleman, Diego, threatening me in the politest way possible." Ramón stepped back a pace and gave a small bow.

Diego returned the gesture, then went into the tavern leaving Ramón alone on the patio.

Ramón smiled as he thought about Diego's words for a few minutes. Yes, he was under Diego's skin alright. He was certain he would be seeing him again before too long.

Pulling the piece of paper from his pocket, he unfolded it and tore it in half. Taking the pencil he scribbled a quick note. Folding the half sheet, he kissed it and tucked it into the flowerpot Lucía had been about to water when he had interrupted her. Glancing back at the inn door he decided the best course of action for now was to take his leave.

"Lucía," he said softly to no one in particular, "I will see you again."


	6. THE BREWING STORM

Lucía came out of the tavern kitchen, her tray laden with food and drinks for customers. There were regulars who always took their breakfast at the inn, but the morning was hardly a rush. She greeted Diego as he came in through the back door.

" _Buenos días,_ Don Diego, what can I get you this morning?" Her smile was bright, she was in a wonderful mood after her meeting on the patio.

"A cup of tea, if you would, Lucía, thank you." Diego sat down at one of the tables, taking off his hat and looping it on the back of the chair.

"Of course, Don Diego." She was about to fetch the tea when she paused. "Don Diego, did you happen to see a gentleman on the back patio as you came in?"

Diego glanced towards the back door. "Out there? No, there was no gentleman out there."

"Oh," said Lucía, disappointed.

"Oh?" Diego repeated, making it a question.

Lucía blushed, not meeting his eye. "Your tea, Don Diego, right away."

A moment later she returned with the steaming pot and a cup. Diego leaned in close as she placed the china on the table.

"Lucía," he said, "if there was a man out on the patio, I think it would be in your best interest to stay away from him."

Lucía blushed again, deeper this time. "Don Diego, I don't know what you mean."

Diego didn't want to embarrass her, he knew Ramón had almost the same effect on women as they had on him. Ramón absolutely lost his mind when he met a girl with a pretty face or pleasant attitude. There had been more than one time in Spain that Diego had found himself drawn into a scheme Ramón had cooked up in an attempt impress a girl he had only ever laid eyes on. Still, he needed her to understand the Ramón was a dangerous man.

"Lucía, I know he can be quite charming, but believe me, you must stay far away from him." Diego's voice was earnest. He hoped that she understood.

"Don Diego, I know you mean well," she paused, not wanting to be rude, "but can you please let my private matters remain private?"

Diego sighed. It seemed Ramón had claimed another victim. "Very well," he assented, "but if you ever need any help, for any reason, don't be afraid to come to me."

She nodded. "Of course, Don Diego." Then she swept off to the kitchens once more.

Bernardo entered the tavern and hurried to Diego's table. When Diego had been having his conversation with Ramón on the patio, Bernardo had been out of sight behind the wall.

"Did you follow Ramón?" Diego asked in a low voice.

Bernardo nodded, gesturing that Ramón had left town.

"Good," said Diego. "We have a new problem though."

Bernardo cocked his head to one side asking what it was.

"The girl, Lucía," Diego nodded in her direction as she bustled around the tavern. "I think Ramón has caught her in his spell. Now he has two reasons to hang around the pueblo, which will make him that much harder to get rid of."

Bernardo rolled his eyes. Diego and all of his friends were the worst when it came to women.

"I want you to keep an eye on her today, I have a feeling that Ramón will come back to see her, or try to lure her away from the pueblo for a rendezvous."

Bernardo nodded. Subtly pointing at Diego he made a discreet 'Z' gesture with his finger.

Diego nodded. "Yes, I believe there will be work for Zorro tonight."

* * *

That afternoon, Monastario entered the tavern for lunch. For once García and Reyes weren't drinking in some corner like the useless buffoons they were. He and his special detail had been up long into the night hours searching the hills for Zorro, but as usual the pursuit was fruitless. There had to be some secret way de la Vega could come and go from his hacienda unseen, but that particular mystery evaded solving by Monastario.

No, his best bet was to catch Zorro in the act and unmask him in front of everyone. Then they would see, they would all see. He had been right! If he played his cards right he might just be able to translate his capture of Zorro into a promotion and a reassignment. Prisons were dead ends, but garrisons or embassies could be turned into climbing ladders if one had enough vision. He had his sights on Mexico City and the cornerstone for his ascent would be Zorro's capture and untimely end.

Seating himself, he took in the tavern. It was unusually quiet, but he supposed that was more to do with his presence than anything else. He liked the effect he had on people here. He was finally receiving the respect he was due.

As he ate his meal he noticed that de la Vega's mute servant would come into the tavern every so often, look around for a minute, then leave. The third time he did this Monastario realized he was checking to see if a certain serving girl was about. A flash of realization came over him all at once. This servant was the key to the whole thing. De la Vega had been able to fool people, to be in two places at once and overhear conversations he couldn't possibly have been privy to by using his servant as a decoy. Castillo had mentioned the servant being able to hear in passing, but that meant very little unless the servant was also a trusted confidant to the young don. Finally, he had all the pieces together and he could see the full picture.

If the mute was hanging around the tavern, checking on the serving girl, then that must mean Zorro was up to something. The mute might play the fool, but Monastario had his number now.

Monastario stayed at the tavern for the rest of the afternoon. If Zorro wanted to keep tabs on the serving girl, he did too.

* * *

Lucía took her pitcher and went out to the patio to finish her watering. It wasn't the best to do so during the hot part of the day, but the flowers and ferns looked so bad she wasn't sure they could wait any longer. She circled the patio trying to remember where she had left off in her watering that morning. A paper stuck in one of the pots caught her eye. The pot was very close to where she had been standing that morning when the stranger had come upon her.

Plucking the note from the fern she was filled with a rush of hope. The note was addressed to her and filled with the most effusive words. Every line was more ardent than the last. Lucía smiled as she read it. The end of the note proposed a rendezvous by moonlight outside of town, if she was bold enough. The letter was signed only with the inscription _Your Slave_. Lucía felt a rush of warmth as she read those two words.

Tucking the letter into her sash, she went about her work on the patio. In her mind's eye she was already planning what she would wear for the evening ahead. Humming to herself she thought only of sweet words and romance.

* * *

That evening Lucía rode out from the pueblo. The air was humid, and to the west a bank of clouds was building. The ride to the appointed place was not a long one. The abandoned barn stood in a grove of trees, out of sight of the town, but not too far away. Lucía had deliberated on actually going through with the tryst all day long. While she had had her fair share of flirtations and crushes in her life, she found herself absolutely enthralled by this mysterious stranger. She knew she was probably being silly about the whole thing, but the adventure of it all beckoned her. Rereading the letter for what was probably the dozenth time she had finally made her decision and rode out of town on one of her father's horses.

Unbeknownst to her, a dark figure followed her every step of the way.

Coming into sight of the barn, she saw her stranger there, standing under the trees in the twilight. When he saw her he broke into a genuine smile.

"Lucía," he called softly, pronouncing her name like a prayer.

" _Señor,"_ she said, as he helped her down from her horse, "I found your note." She produced the letter to show him, the strengthening wind tugging playfully at the paper.

Taking her hands, he kissed them passionately. _"_ _Señorita,_ you don't know how I have longed for you this entire day. Your presence brings me life."

"Her presence may bring you life, but mine will do quite the opposite if you don't leave town."

"Zorro," Lucía gasped.

Ramón cursed internally as he dropped Lucía's hands and turned to face the masked _bandido_. Zorro stood under the trees a few feet away, cape swirling in breeze, sword drawn.

"Go home, Lucía." Zorro nodded towards the pueblo. "This man is a dangerous criminal."

Lucía looked between the two men for a moment.

"Go on," Zorro prompted.

Lucía ran to her horse and was away a second later.

"Was that really necessary?" Ramón asked, quite cross.

"Yes, it was," said Zorro, brandishing his sword. "Now, I believe we have a score to settle."

"That we do," said Ramón, drawing his own sword.

"And when I win," Zorro pointed his blade at Ramón, "you will leave town at once."

"And when I win," Ramón brought his sword up in salute, "you will be revealed to everyone for the fraud you are."

Zorro saluted in return. _"_ _En garde."_

The two men sprang at each other. Their lightning quick movements almost too fast for the eye to see. Their swords clashed against each other as they battled their way around the grove of trees. Stepping over branches and dodging each other's swords, they wove their way between the trunks. The air was heavy and hot as clouds began to darken the night sky.

Zorro slashed at Ramón who ducked the blow and followed up with a thrust of his own. Zorro parried, jumping backwards to avoid the blade. Ramón lunged forward. Zorro sidestepped, thrusting as Ramón stumbled past him. Ramón turned on his heel, blocking, then returning with his own riposte. Zorro's blade flickered around Ramón's, trying to find any weakness in Ramón's defense.

The first spatter of rain brought their fight to a halt. They both looked up at the sky.

"Do you care to continue this inside?" Ramón gestured to the barn door.

"After you," Zorro inclined his head.

Lightning split the sky sending the pair of them running to the barn door. Once inside the dimly lit structure, they faced each other again.

"Now, where were we?" said Zorro.

"Here, I believe," said Ramón as he lunged forward again.

Zorro, parried and feinted to the right. Ramón didn't fall for the feint and kept pressing him. Zorro changed tactic and sprang forwards with a series of aggressive blows. Blocking, Ramón jumped backwards, his foot hitting one of the soft floorboards which instantly gave way under his weight. He gave a half-strangled cry as he lost his balance and tumbled to the floor, his blade clattering out of his hand.

" _Muchacho_ _,"_ said Zorro, with a laugh, "it seems you are caught." A peal of thunder rolled and lightning illuminated the dark corners of the barn.

"No, Zorro, it is you who are caught," announced Monastario.

Zorro spun to face the entrance where Monastario stood in the doorway, pistol drawn. Sheets of rain began pouring from the sky, the long-gathering clouds fully releasing at last. Monastario stepped into the barn, gun trained on Zorro.

"I have you at last, de la Vega, there's no escape this time." Monastario's words were punctuated by another boom of thunder that rolled through the countryside.

Zorro nodded at the pistol. "Not very sporting of you, are you afraid I'll beat you again?"

Monastario flushed. "Drop the sword, de la Vega," he demanded.

Zorro had only a split second to act. He dove to the floor just as Monastario fired, the ball going wide. Cursing, Monastario threw aside his pistol. Springing to his feet, Zorro positioned himself to face his new enemy. Ramón disentangled his foot and went for his sword at the same moment that Monastario drew his blade. Both lunged at Zorro, Zorro blocking their blades. Lashing out, Zorro kicked Ramón hard in the torso. This was no longer a duel, this was about survival.

Ramón stumbled back under the blow and Zorro took the opportunity to devote his full attention to Monastario. Parrying the _capitán's_ blade, Zorro lunged, sending Monastario onto the defensive. Zorro redoubled his attack, forcing Monastario to use every bit of his skill to keep up. Ramón recovered from the blow and sprang forward, sword swinging. Zorro, catching the movement out of the corner of his eye, leapt to the side at the last second causing Ramón to collide with Monastario. The two men crashed to the floor in a tangled mess.

This was Zorro's cue to exit. Running to the barn door his whistled shrilly into the storm. A split second later, Tornado appeared with a whinny. Zorro leapt on his back and dug his heels into his flanks.

Righting themselves, Ramón and Monastario raced to the door. Lightning flashed, followed by a thunderclap. For a moment the dazzling light illuminated the masked bandit charging into the distance.

"You fool, we almost had him!" Monastario raged.

Ramón stared out into the night. Hail began pounding the grass and flowers flat while the torrential rains made every dip of the countryside into a new riverbed. Gesturing towards the door he said, "If you want to go after him, be my guest."

Monastario looked as if he had half a mind to try and run Ramón through right then and there, but the naked sword in Ramón's hand made him think better of it. Looking out at the storm he jammed his sword back into his sheath. "He's crazy if he thinks he's getting far in that."

Ramón sighed. "Diego de la Vega is the only man I know in the entire world who would do something so daring and so stupid."

* * *

Zorro was in trouble and he knew it. The rain was washing over the previously dry ground making it unstable and difficult to ride over. The dusty earth turned to slick, sticky mud and even a horse raised in the wild couldn't go anywhere fast. To make matters worse, the hail was picking up in intensity. Zorro had to find someplace to shelter and quickly.

Tornado was nervous as he tried to find purchase on the slippery hillsides. Zorro sensed his horse's unease, but they really had no choice. It was dangerous to ride into a lightning storm, it was suicide to stay in the same building as Monastario.

Rain and hail pounded on his back, soaking him to the skin. Lighting danced over the hilltops, a little too close for comfort.

"Come on, boy," Zorro said, his words being swallowed up by the gale, "let's just find somewhere."

Tornado picked up the pace, struggling for footing as he climbed the hillside. Zorro found himself between a rock and a hard place. The hilltops were likely to receive lightning strikes, and the valleys ran the risk of flash flooding. Pulling the reins, Zorro turned Tornado in a direction where he hoped some shelter could be found. The rain and the hail made it hard to know for sure exactly where he was, only the lightning briefly illuminated the countryside.

Coming near to the hilltop a bolt of lightning smote the ground not very far from horse and rider. Tornado reared in fright, almost unseating Zorro.

"Steady boy, you must be brave only a little longer." Zorro knew perfectly well that Tornado couldn't possibly hear him over the raging storm, but it was almost impossible to comfort the animal in a situation like this. Truth be told, he was a little afraid neither of them would come out of this in one piece.

It was a testament to Tornado's strength of character and absolute faith in him that the horse obeyed him through the gale. If somehow the both of them managed to make it through the night, Tornado was going to be treated like a prince among horses.

Cresting the hill, they came to the descent on the other side. The driving winds and rain made it difficult to breathe and impossible to see. They could only go by touch, testing the earth one bit at a time. The ground was soft and treacherous, forcing them to go excruciatingly slow.

Suddenly, the ground gave way. A mudslide swept both horse and horseman down the hill at a tremendous speed. Zorro was unseated, tumbling from the horse into the churning mud racing down the hillside. Tornado screamed in fright, a piercing sound that could be heard even above the raging storm.


	7. THE INVITATION

The mid-morning sun burned away the last of the previous night's storm clouds leaving only a certain steaminess to the air. Alejandro paced to-and-fro in his son's room. He had paced every other room in the hacienda since last night, perhaps this one would do the trick and bring Diego home. Pausing for a moment in front of the portrait of Diego's mother, Isabela, Alejandro silently asked her to say a prayer for their son's safe return.

He hoped that Diego had fought off Monastario and Ramón, sending them packing, then had taken shelter somewhere and spent a quiet and uneventful night warm and dry while the storm passed.

He feared that his son was even now laying somewhere, dead. Run through by his rivals or beaten into oblivion in the storm.

It had been between this hope and this fear he had paced all night long. He had almost saddled his own horse at the first light of dawn and gone looking for Diego, but the rains had made the area dangerous. Besides that, he hadn't the faintest idea where his son might be. Zorro could be miles away in any direction. So he had stayed at the house, pacing.

Alejandro jumped as the clock on Diego's wall chimed nine o'clock. Deciding that it was high time he paced somewhere else, Alejandro opened the door to the secret room and made his way down to the cave. The coolness of the cave was somehow soothing, even though his agitation had nothing to do with being hot.

He circled the cave, not exactly pacing, just taking in everything. For so long now his son had come down here dressed as an outlaw and tried to do the work no one else would. When would the other men of the pueblo step up and take responsibility? When would Diego be able to put away Zorro for good? A flash of anger swept over him. His son risked his life to make California a better place, it was about time the other men of the pueblo did the same. He would be grateful the day he no longer had to watch his son ride out as Zorro. It was a constant tug of war for him, his incredible pride at his son's daring and sense of justice, and his fear for his son's safety.

Hearing footsteps Alejandro turned excitedly, only to see Bernardo. The man looked like also hadn't slept.

Bernardo gestured to Tornado's empty stall.

"No, Zorro has not come back yet, I worry that something may have happened." Alejandro sighed heavily, placing a hand on the railing of the makeshift stall.

Bernardo pointed outside and indicated rain.

"Yes, the storm was very bad last night. I hope Diego was not out in it." Alejandro rubbed a thumb over the wood, sometimes being Zorro's father was a trial all of its own. There were times he wished he could go back to the early days when he didn't know Diego was Zorro, it was easy to sleep when it was someone else's son risking life and limb.

Bernardo made a series of gestures to indicate that Diego was smart and would be okay.

Alejandro appreciated the attempt at reassurance, Bernardo was a good man. However, he wasn't sure Bernardo was convinced of Diego's safety either.

Like Alejandro, Bernardo seemed to have no idea of what to do. After he aimlessly walked around the cave for some minutes he finally went to the cave entrance and pulled back the curtain of vines. At once he turned and summoned Alejandro, who hurried to see what it was.

There, within sight of the cave mouth, were Diego and Tornado.

They looked awful. Horse and man were covered in mud from head to toe. Both looked exhausted. Diego was walking, leading Tornado. His hat and mask dangled from the hand not occupied with Tornado's reins. His cape was loosely folded and tossed over the saddle. Tornado walked with the ungainly step that indicated he had thrown a shoe. Alejandro's fear that they had been out in the storm all night was confirmed.

"Diego!" he shouted as he and Bernardo ran to help him.

Diego seemed to relax upon seeing them. "Father," he said with a sigh of relief.

Bernardo pulled Tornado's reins from Diego's hand and Alejandro slipped an arm around his son for support.

"Diego, what happened to you?" Alejandro didn't want to pester him, but he was afraid his son might be injured in some way.

"Father, I have had one of the worst nights of my entire life. But, can I please tell you about it later?" Diego's voice was soft with tiredness.

"Are you hurt? Do I need to send for Doctor Avila?" That was really all that Alejandro cared about.

Ducking the vines as they entered the cave, Diego said, "No, Father, by some miracle I am unhurt. I just need a little rest." He turned to Bernardo. "Can you please clean up Tornado, he went through a lot last night. He needs a new shoe and as many carrots as he wants."

Tornado nickered softly, twitching his ears in what seemed like agreement.

Bernardo nodded and patted Diego gently on the shoulder, then pointed down the passage way.

Alejandro nodded and guided his son down the passage. "Come now, Diego, Bernardo will take care of Tornado and I will take care of you."

* * *

"I imagine the lancers will be here before too long," Monastario said as he adjusted Hielo's cinch strap, checking to see if the saddle was stable. "Zorro very likely left them a note telling them where to find you, and García, being the fool that he is, will certainly follow instructions from a _bandido_ and be here as soon as he can make a path." Monastario was thinking hard, he felt it was still possible to salvage the situation.

Ramón bridled Saturno. He was sure Diego had weathered the storm without any trouble. Diego was smart and always seemed to have all the luck. He supposed he would hear otherwise if Diego didn't make it back home. "What we need to do," Ramón said as he lifted the saddle onto Saturno's back, "is to go to his hacienda and have it out with him."

"Not a chance," said Monastario. "Doing that would leave us without any proof that he is Zorro, and then _we_ could be arrested for disturbing the peace or even attempted murder. No, we must catch him in the act and unmask him in front of everyone."

"Well, so far that hasn't worked very well, now has it?" Ramón was testy. Monastario had an almost maniacal fascination with outing Diego. While he would also like to see Diego revealed as Zorro, he would relish the chance just to cross swords with him in a duel to see who really was the better fencer.

"We need to draw him out, we almost had him at the mission." Monastario struck his hand with his fist as he thought. "If we can get him out in the open I might be able to capture him with my lancers."

"He came to the mission because he was curious, to draw him out he will either have to believe we are going to do something he thinks is harmful, or offer him something he wants." Ramón carefully rolled all his belongings into his blanket and secured it to the back of the saddle.

"A man like de la Vega wants for nothing," said Monastario, "he's the wealthiest man in Southern California."

"Not money," said Ramón, he felt like he was talking to Marcos again. "He wants something from us, namely, for us to go away. Maybe we could promise him that? He fights me one last time, and to the victor goes the spoils."

"You really think he could be lured out, as Zorro, just to get rid of us?" Monastario laughed harshly. "No, we will have to infringe on a few rights, de la Vega has a soft heart and always comes to the rescue when someone is under threat."

Ramón rolled his eyes. "Alright, what do you propose?"

Monastario grinned wickedly. "I think perhaps we should send our mutual acquaintance an invitation, an invitation to death."

* * *

Diego woke in the late afternoon. It seemed that every muscle in his body ached from his little "adventure" the previous night. He really had to start being more careful. Rising, he dressed himself, it was good to be in clean clothes again, he hoped Bernardo wouldn't have too difficult a time getting the mud out of his Zorro costume.

Entering the secret room, he went down to the cave to see how Tornado was doing. He felt sorry that he had put his brave horse in such a terrible situation, he hoped Tornado wouldn't hold it against him.

Going to pet his horse he said, "We had quite the time of it last night, didn't we."

Tornado nuzzled into his hand.

"You did a great job out there, you were really amazing." Diego brushed his fingers through Tornado's forelock.

Tornado leaned his head against Diego's arm.

"Let's say that we not do something quite so stupid again, eh?"

Tornado seemed to nod, causing Diego to laugh.

"I think that is something we can both agree on." Giving the horse one last pat he checked to see that the shoe had been replaced, which it had, and headed back to his room. If heaven had any mercy on him there would be no news tonight about Ramón or Monastario. He needed a breather.

Entering his room again he found his father had just come through the door.

"Ah, you're awake," said Alejandro. "I was hoping you could tell me what exactly happened last night."

Diego walked over to his dressing table and began to comb his hair, brushing out his curls. "Are you sure you want to know? It will only make you worry."

"Diego, I will worry whether I know or not, and my imagination is far better at inventing catastrophes than reality is. Just this morning I heard that a man fell off the footbridge at the gorge and drowned." Alejandro sat on the trunk at the foot of Diego's bed and watched his son style his hair in the mirror. "So, please, tell me what happened last night."

Diego sighed, then began recounting last night's activities. When he got to the part with the mudslide his father jumped to his feet.

"You were swept away by a mudslide? How on earth did you survive?" Alejandro came and put a hand on Diego's shoulder.

Diego looked up at his father before returning to the mirror. "By the prayers of all the saints and a good amount of luck, I can think of no other answer for it." Pouring oil into his hands he smoothed it through his hair. "The mud took Tornado and I some way down the hill, but somehow we managed to get out of the flow and onto an outcropping with an overhang." Picking up his comb again he began to style his locks.

" _Madre de Dios,"_ Alejandro whispered, closing his eyes. "Diego, you are lucky to be alive."

"I am well aware of that, Father." Diego applied more oil to his hair, then combed it through, styling it just so. "We stayed the night under the overhang, and while it was cold and wet it kept the worst of the landslides off of us. I left once dawn came but I had to walk because the ground was too treacherous, that's why it took us so long to get home."

Alejandro patted Diego's shoulder softly. "That was probably wise, I pray you never find yourself in such a situation again."

Diego looked into the mirror catching his father's eye. "Where would be the fun in that, Father?" He said, eyes sparkling.

"Diego you will put me in an early grave."

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Alejandro opened it to find Bernardo.

Bernardo pointed to Diego and produced a note. He gestured to indicate a soldier.

"A soldier gave you a note for me?" Diego clarified, wiping his hands on a towel and taking the letter.

Bernardo nodded, signing to indicate Monastario.

"One of the soldiers on Monastario's detail gave you a letter for me." Now Diego had the idea.

Bernardo nodded again.

Breaking the seal Diego unfolded the paper and scanned the lines therein. A moment later he put the letter on his dressing table and looked at his father and Bernardo. "It seems that once again, Monastario sets a trap."


	8. TWIXT HAMMER AND ANVIL

_Tomorrow night near the gorge footbridge, meet me at eight o'clock. I am eager to settle our score for good. Lucía and I will be waiting._

_Ramón_

Diego folded the letter and tossed it on his desk. "Monastario is trying to draw Zorro out."

"Why don't you tip off the soldiers and let them catch Castillo near the gorge? Then Monastario would have no excuse but to return to Ensenada," Alejandro suggested. That way it might be possible to sidestep the whole Zorro element all together.

"That won't work, Father." Diego was three steps ahead mentally. "Monastario will just find some excuse to release Ramón and claim he's escaped again. Zorro is going to have to go there and put an end to this."

"Diego, this is obviously a trap, you might just get yourself killed." Alejandro didn't normally caution his son against riding out as Zorro, but if Zorro did not appear there wasn't likely to be any trouble.

"And what about Lucía? While I don't believe Ramón would necessarily involve her or put her in harm's way, Monastario most certainly would." Diego wondered how Monastario had convinced Ramón to go along with this plan. Ramón wasn't always the best of gentlemen, but it wasn't in his character to put a lady in danger.

Alejandro grimaced. "You seem to have a higher opinion of Castillo than he deserves. I suppose you're right, though, the girl might find herself in harm's way." Alejandro tried to think of to think of any solution that might not involve Diego riding headlong into a trap. When nothing came to mind he let out a disgruntled sigh. "So, what are you going to do?"

Diego drummed his fingers on the desk as he thought for a moment. "I suppose," he said at last, "tomorrow night, Zorro springs a trap."

* * *

Ramón looked at the position of the sun in the sky and tried to estimate the time. He wished he had a pocket watch, eight o'clock couldn't get here fast enough. He sat on a rock about a mile from the bridge that had been indicated in the note. His best guess was that Zorro would be coming from this direction since it was right on the way from the de la Vega hacienda. He wanted to see Zorro first so he could have a crack at him without Monastario's interference.

Giving up on using the sun to tell time, he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. This time he and Diego wouldn't be interrupted, they would finally find out who the winner of this rematch was. Hearing hoofbeats in the distance he grinned to himself.

Rising, he turned to face the horseman. Just as he expected, there was Zorro. "You're early, I suppose you just couldn't wait to see me," said Ramón.

Zorro sprang from the saddle. "And to think, I find you alone."

"If you are worried about Lucía, fear not, it was only a ruse." Ramón drew his sword. "No, Diego, tonight you are all mine."

Zorro grinned, drawing his own sword and tossing his cape over his left arm. "The stakes the same as before?"

Ramón raised his sword in salute. "Of course."

Zorro saluted in return. Then battle commenced. Steel rang against steel as the two men battled each other. Each looking for even the slightest opening they might exploit. Their blades flickered to-and-fro seeking entry. Ramón advanced, determined to make this the final duel between himself and Diego. He was going to do whatever it took to win.

Ramón pressed forward looking for entry. Zorro blocked, then blocked again. Feinting, he lunged forward forcing Ramón to block this time. Ramón slashed his blade through the air in a vicious arc. Zorro sprang back, then reversed directions trying to take advantage of the opening in Ramón's defenses. Ramón parried, then delivered the riposte.

Zorro feinted to the left, then came back with a new attack. Ramón blocked, locking blades. The two stood at a standstill, face-to-face as they tried to gain the upper hand. Sweat trickled down Ramón's neck as he pushed against his rival.

"It's no good, Diego, I'm better than ever." Ramón grunted as he tried to throw Zorro off balance.

"You still have a lot to learn, my friend." Zorro's voice was strained as he attempted to repulse Ramón.

Ramón ground his feet in, shoving Zorro with all his strength. The men broke apart, Zorro stumbling backward, trod on the edge of his cape. Slightly off balance, Zorro's blade dipped as he attempted to recover his footing. It was enough of an opening for Ramón. He lunged forward as Zorro fell back, his blade piercing Zorro's left shoulder. Falling to the ground, Zorro rolled away from his adversary, springing to his feet once more. Ramón jumped forward to press his advantage. Zorro lunged, driving Ramón back. Ramón met the attack and the two blades wove together in a lightning fast dance. Zorro maneuvered his sword and with a sharp twist sent Ramón's sword spinning into the grass.

"You may have had first blood," said Zorro, shrugging his shoulder, "but the match is mine."

Ramón halted, raising his hands, Zorro's sword hovering near his throat. "Let me retrieve my sword, you won't be able to do that twice."

"It would be my pleasure," said Zorro stepping back. He brandished his sword ignoring the injury to his arm.

Ramón was halfway to his sword when the sound of hooves thundered in the distance. Zorro recognized the all too familiar sound of a squad from the garrison.

"It seems your friends have arrived and I must be away," said Zorro. Unable to resist, he slashed three quick strokes, emblazoning a 'Z' on Ramón's jacket. _"_ _Hasta la vista,"_ he said. Then, whistling for Tornado, he sprang into the saddle again. Tornado reared back for a moment, then dashed forward with all the speed of a racehorse.

"No you don't, Diego." Ramón wasn't ready for this exchange to be over. Diego's win had been pure luck. "You're not getting away that easy." Running to his own horse he jumped into the saddle, dashing after his rival.

Zorro raced away, swift as a shadow. Ramón pursued, kicking his horse repeatedly to urge him on faster. Zorro's horse was like magic, he ran fast as the wind, sure-footed in the Californian hills. Zorro kept his seat expertly as the black horse easily jumped a shrubby hedge. Ramón, anticipating that Saturno would falter at such a prospect, diverted the steed around the hedge instead, loosing less time than if he had tried convincing the animal to attempt the jump. Zorro's horse was fast, but Ramón's mount was also a good Californian breed, trustworthy and true. The rocky countryside provided no hindrance.

Wheeling quickly to the left, Zorro changed direction unexpectedly. Ramón turned his horse to follow, the gelding's hooves scrambling for purchase in the rocky soil. Such a maneuver cost him precious seconds. _Diego is a good rider,_ thought Ramón, _but he is not the only one._ Zorro's cape billowed behind him as he rode his horse at a full gallop across the countryside. Ramón matched him in pace if not in speed.

Suddenly, to the right of the riders, a shallow gorge appeared. Ramón could hear the river roaring at the bottom, swollen to extreme heights by the recent rains. The two horses charged down the edge of the gorge at top speed, neither one flagging even as they were pushed to the limit. Ramón had him now, he could taste it!

Pulling his reins hard to the right, Zorro wheeled his horse sharply, turning him almost in place. Kicking his horse he lurched onto the footbridge that crossed the gorge. Horse hooves clattered across the wooden planks as the horse ran full-out. Ramón wheeled his horse as well, loosing more seconds in his pursuit. Coming to the head of this bridge Saturno shied unexpectedly, rearing back and prancing nervously. Cursing, Ramón fought the horse, he couldn't let Diego get away.

Zorro was halfway across the bridge, halfway to freedom when-

"That's far enough, Zorro!" Monastario shouted above the roar of the river. The _capitán_ stood at the far end of the bridge with half his complement of chosen lancers. In his outstretched hand a pistol, pointing directly at the masked bandit.

Zorro swore under his breath, bringing Tornado to a sudden halt, the horse half-rearing in an attempt to stop without warning. Throwing a look over his shoulder he tried to turn his horse the other way. Monastario had been known to miss his mark before, he was willing to chance it again. Tornado made the tight turn on the narrow bridge with marvelous grace. Zorro was about to spur him forward but-

"You have nowhere to go now, give yourself up!" Ramón was seated on his now quiet horse at the bridge entrance, a rifle in his hands. Behind him three soldiers on horseback. "Once and for all, this is the end of you." If he could not best Diego in a duel, to reveal him would be the next best thing.

The two armed men began advancing on Zorro, weapons trained on him. It seemed that he was out of options. He knew they wanted him alive, captured with witnesses to prove they had been right all along. He wasn't about to let that happen.

"It's all over, de la Vega," gloated Monastario, moving along the bridge with care.

"Diego, you have no choice, we've got you." Ramón's voice was triumphant. He urged his horse onto the bridge, this time the animal obeyed.

" _Muchachos_ ," said Zorro, looking from Monastario to Ramón, no trace of fear in his voice, "I'm afraid that once again all you have is nothing." He clicked his tongue and Tornado scrambled backwards until his hocks made contact with the wood of the railing.

"You bluff, de la Vega, and now you are mine." Monastario jumped forward, firing his pistol.

Zorro ducked, the ball going wide. He looked at Ramón who still held the loaded rifle in his hands. Ramón raised the weapon, then lowered it again. Zorro flashed him a smile.

" _Adiós, muchachos,"_ he said, throwing Ramón a two-finger salute.

"Diego, no!" shouted Ramón, realizing what was about to happen, but it was too late.

Zorro spurred Tornado forward, jumped him over the railing into the churning river below. Horse and rider were instantly swept away by the fast moving current.

The lancers rushed to the bridge to see if they might make out the form of the bandit somewhere among the swirling waters. No one said a word for a long moment.

" _¡Babosos!"_ Monastario turned his abrupt anger at being thwarted yet again onto his soldiers. "Mount your horses and follow the river, I want him, or his body! Go!"

The lancers scrambled to comply, none of them daring to point out that the criminal they were _supposed_ to be searching for was there on the bridge. Every soldier of the _pueblo de Los Angeles_ knew that Zorro was now the top priority. The lancers hustled to their horses, the fastest ones heading downstream in only seconds.

Ramón dismounted his horse and leaned over the rail, looking at the chaotic water.

"You fool, why didn't you shoot him?" Monastario wheeled on Ramón.

"I did not come here to kill Diego, only to get my revenge." Ramón looked up at the _capitán._ "Now look what you've done." He looked back towards the water.

"If you had shot him, he wouldn't have escaped." Monastario crossed the bridge grabbing the rifle from Ramón's hand. "Corporal!" he bellowed, "Get back here and arrest the prisoner!"

Reyes, who had been in the rear of the party of soldiers, turned his horse back to the bridge.

Monastario ran to the end of the bridge, catching his horse's reins. "If his body is not found, Castillo, I will take great pleasure in dragging you behind my horse all two hundred miles to Ensenada." Monastario mounted his white horse. Digging his spurs into Hielo's flank he followed the lancers down the river.

Ramón looked back at the angry water. There was no way that Diego survived that, why would he do something so suicidal? The river churned and swirled giving away nothing. A sense of loss descended on him as the corporal took his arms and tied them behind his back.


	9. LONG LIVE THE FOX

Ramón Castillo leaned against the bars of his cell looking out at the yard of the _cuartel_. The day was beautiful but that hardly seemed interesting to him. He was the only prisoner in the block of cells and the day passed at a tortuously slow pace.

Corporal Reyes came through the gate, mail pouch in hand, on his way to the _comandante's_ office.

Ramón waved to get his attention. "Hey, soldier. Come here for a minute."

Reyes stopped, looking around in case it was another soldier being hailed. Deciding it was him that was being called Reyes shuffled over to the cells. "What is it?" he said.

"Soldier," said Ramón, "is there any news of Zorro? Did they find him yet?"

"Oh, no, there's no trace of him," said Reyes. "It's too bad, too. Since he disappeared that means no one gets the reward."

Ramón grimaced. "Very well, that's all I wanted to know."

"It's all anyone is talking about today. Everywhere I go people are asking, 'what happened to Zorro?'" Reyes shrugged. "I think he's probably dead." After a moment's thought he added, "I wish I could have had that reward though, two thousand pesos sure goes a long way."

Ramón looked away from the corporal, closing his eyes. What a waste. "Alright, Corporal, you can go on with your business." He didn't feel like chit-chatting right now.

Reyes looked at the mail pouch in his hands, then shuffled on to the office. Ramón watched him go. He wondered what Diego's old man was doing. Did he even know? But, maybe Diego somehow survived. Maybe in an hour or two Diego would come through the _cuartel_ gates to gloat, and then everything would be as it should be.

Turning to the cot he kicked the leg. This whole scheme had gone sour. Instead of unmasking Diego and clearing his name he was headed back to prison and his rival was missing – or dead. Sitting on the bunk he put his head in his hands. So much for making his own luck.

" _¿Señor?"_

Ramón looked over to the cell door. Lucía stood there, radiant as a morning in June. Some paces away stood the lancer on duty, guarding the visitor and monitoring their interactions.

"Lucía," he said, coming over to the bars. "You don't know how happy-"

" _Señor,"_ she said again, cutting him off in a tone barely above a whisper, "or perhaps I should call you Ramón."

Ramón smiled. "That is my name. To hear it on your lips is music to my ears."

Lucía smiled, then straightened her face. "Ramón, I know who you are now. You and your friend tried to rob the inn not so long ago."

"Lucía, that was just a little misunderstanding. You must believe me, I would never hurt anyone." Ramón wasn't sure he'd be able to take it if, along with all his other misfortunes, he lost Lucía's esteem today too.

"I heard that you are being sent away to a prison in Baja California." Lucía didn't know exactly how she felt about that.

" _Sí,_ that is what I heard as well." Ramón tried to sound casual even though he didn't feel quite so confident. "It seems that we are fated to never share more than that brief moment on the patio."

Lucía smiled softly at the memory. "Ramón, I wish things had worked out differently. I wish you were not a wanted man and being sent so far away. I would have liked to explore what we could have been together."

Ramón reached for her hand through the bars, taking it and pressing it to his lips. "The possibility of us will haunt me forever. I will never recover from your life-giving smile."

Lucía blushed a little. "Ramón, I came to say goodbye. I do not know what the future holds for you, but always remember that my affections will be with you as I dream of what could have been."

"Your words are a light to me in a very dark time," Ramón kissed her hand a second time, "and I am comforted by your dreams."

* * *

Corporal Reyes walked over to the _comandante's_ desk and shook the contents of the mail pouch out on the desktop. "The mail came."

Sergeant García began sorting through the stack of letters, Reyes looking over his shoulder.

"What do you want?" said García after a moment.

"I was just wondering if there was anything for me."

"Every time the mail comes you ask if there is anything for you," said García, looking up from his letter sorting. "Remind me corporal, how many times have you gotten mail?"

"I don't think I've ever gotten mail before, sergeant." Reyes shook his head.

"Then why would you start getting letters now?" García picked up the last letter from the pile, an official looking one with a large seal.

"I don't know," Reyes shrugged. "Maybe one day a distant relative will die and I'll get a letter telling me I'm rich or something."

"Stupid, those sort of things don't happen in real life." García turned the letter over to see whose name was on the back. "Corporal, go tell Capitán Monastario that there is a letter for him."

"Oh, I don't think I should bother him." Reyes glanced at the door which led to the officer's quarters with apprehension. "He's very unhappy."

"He has a letter from the territorial prison commander and it is marked urgent, he needs to be notified at once." García gestured towards the door with a jab of his thumb.

"What if you told him about the letter?" Reyes suggested.

"Corporal, do as you're told and inform the _capitán_ at once." Monastario was in a bad mood and García wanted to stay well away from it.

Reyes gave up and headed to complete the unpleasant task. Reaching the door it opened just as he was about to knock, Monastario running into him on the threshold.

"What are you doing, idiot, out of my way!" Monastario barked. "The pair of you have disturbed me with all the racket you make running your mouths. Now, what do you want?"

Reyes shied back, trying to disappear into the wall of the alcove. "The sergeant has a letter for you, _capitán,_ it's very important and needs your attention at once."

García struggled to his feet as Monastario pushed past Reyes and snatched the letter off García's desk. Breaking the seal he unfurled the letter and read. Reyes and García held their breath so as not to attract his ire by breathing too loudly.

Monastario crushed the letter between his hands. "No! He cannot do this to me."

"What is it, _mi capitán?"_ García ventured, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"What is the matter?" Monastario looked at García as if he were the stupidest man alive. "Revolutionaries have been apprehended in Pitic and are being sent to my prison, I am being summoned back immediately." Monastario threw the letter back onto the desk.

"Oh, good." García said, then realized he should not sound so delighted. "But _capitán,_ you have caught your prisoner, that is what you wanted in the first place."

"Idiot!" Monastario snapped. "If I leave immediately then I will not have a chance to recover Zorro's body and I am right back where I started."

García didn't really follow the _capitán's_ logic, but at this point he was too afraid to ask for clarification. He just nodded and kept quiet.

Monastario furiously paced the room half a dozen times before wheeling on García again. "Arrange a firing squad for the morning."

García gulped. "Of course, _mi capitán."_ He and Reyes exchanged nervous glances. "If the _capitán_ does not mind me asking, who are we having shot tomorrow?"

"The prisoner Castillo, of course." There was absolutely no way he was going to let a loose end like Castillo dangle freely. "If I am to find places for these revolutionaries in my prison then I will have to make space where I can."

The corporal and sergeant sighed with relief that it wasn't one of them. "Yes, _mi capitán,"_ said García, "the firing squad will be ready at dawn."

"See that there are no mistakes or I will personally see you in front of a firing squad the very next hour." With that threat hanging in the air, Monastario turned on his heel and stormed into his quarters.

* * *

Night fell, bringing to the people of the pueblo relief from the day's heat. Night, however, didn't bring any relief to Ramón. His cell was oppressively small, dirty and uncomfortable. He couldn't believe he was spending his last night on earth locked in a miserable cell in a town nobody had ever heard of. A fall from grace indeed. Usually, he was able to wrangle a situation to his benefit, or at least get out of it alive. Not this time. He had over played his hand and his luck had run out at last. While not surprised by Monastario's double cross, he was certain it was more an act of revenge on him letting Zorro escape than it was anything else.

He lay on his cot, unsure if he should try to sleep or not. Would it make any difference to be shot when you were refreshed versus tired? He didn't think so. He had tested every weakness he could find and there was no getting out of this one.

"So, it seems you are in a spot of trouble."

Ramón bolted upright, trying to see in the dark. "Who's there?" he whispered, hoping against hope that he was right.

"It is only I, El Zorro." Zorro leaned casually against the cell, looking for all the world like this was his second home. "I assure you, I am not a ghost."

Ramón hurried to the cell door, trying to get a better look. "Diego, I thought for sure that you were gone for good." Diego didn't seem badly hurt, which was a miracle in itself, but he wasn't clad in a cape like usual, and his left shoulder sat just a little awkwardly.

"It seems that is what most of the pueblo thinks, but I'm sure this will disillusion them."

"I see you are not wearing a cape tonight. Your arm, was that my doing, or the jump?" Ramón figured it was the former.

"A little bit of both I suppose. As for the cape," Zorro shook his head, "the blasted thing tripped me up allowing you to prick me, and then in the river it almost got me drowned. I'm beginning to rethink the cape altogether."

Ramón tried to calm his voice, he didn't want Diego thinking he was too relieved. "How did you survive that jump? I thought for certain you would have been overcome by the waters."

"That is a story for another day, _mi amigo._ Right now I need to get you out of here." Zorro produced the keys to the cell and quietly unlocked the door. "Come with me, quickly."

Ramón exited the cell and Zorro pointed towards the wall.

"Over the wall, a horse waits for you on the other side," said Zorro.

The two men hastened towards the wall, Zorro pausing for a moment to scratch three marks into the door of the _comandante's_ office. Grinning, he turned to Ramón. "I wouldn't want him to worry."

Climbing over the wall, Ramón noticed that Zorro was definitely favoring his left arm from when he had been tagged by Ramón's blade the day before. However, even with some reduced mobility, Zorro was more than able to easily scale the _cuartel_ wall. Once on the outside Ramón and Zorro mounted the waiting horses.

"That black horse," said Ramón, "he surely is something special."

"That he is," Zorro agreed, patting his horse's neck. "As for you, I can't say the same. Now, you will follow me."

"And why should I do that?" Ramón had his freedom and a horse now, that was all he needed.

"Because if you don't I will put you right back in that cell and come in person to watch you get shot in the morning, now come with me."

"You treat me so cruelly, Diego, you know that? You have so little mercy on me." Ramón didn't know what Diego had in mind, but he was sure it wasn't going to be his favorite thing.

"Ramón you have had all the mercy out of me that I can afford. I bested you in our duel and this was our agreed upon stakes. You are going to leave Los Angeles, and with any luck, never come back. Let some others show you mercy instead." Zorro clicked his tongue softly and the horses began making their way out of the pueblo.

"And where, exactly, are you taking me?" Ramón asked.

"I am going to personally escort you to San Pedro where I will personally put you on a ship destined for anywhere but here. You can be someone else's problem." The edge in his voice was modified by a slight amusement.

Ramón grinned. "You know, Diego, you always tell everyone that we are not friends, but we are."

Zorro rolled his eyes, a smile playing around his lips. "Just ride, would you, I want you gone as soon as possible."

Taking the reins he slapped them softly, and both riders disappeared into the dark night.

* * *

Monastario rode away from Los Angeles in disgust. Somehow de la Vega had won again, and in the process had freed Castillo. Certainly just to dangle Zorro's victory over his head. Another man free to spread rumors about him and damage his reputation. He gritted his teeth. It was no matter. If he ever saw Castillo again he would shoot him on site as an escaped convict, he meant nothing now and was as good as dead. No, it was only de la Vega that mattered. Somehow, someday, he would reveal de la Vega to be Zorro and watch him be hanged. Monastario could almost see it now.

The ride back to Ensenada was a long one, but new thoughts of revenge made the days pass quickly. This wasn't just about proving himself right, this was the only way for him to leave his current dead-end prospects and actually make something of himself. One day, very soon, his fortunes would change and he would find a way to pay de la Vega back in full.

Entering his office at the prison, Monastario took his reports from his second in command and went through the motions of being back at his regular post. A knock on his door disturbed him.

" _¡Pase!_ " he called. If this was some idiot disturbing him for no reason he would have that man severely punished.

The lancer opened the door. "There is a special emissary from Spain, _capitán."_

"Show him in." Monastario grimaced, emissaries only ever had bad news these days. Usually, they just wanted more tax money for the wars in Europe.

The emissary stepped into his office, Monastario rose to greet him.

"Capitán Monastario, I am special emissary Juan Cortez, I have an official notice for you from the viceroy."

Monastario bowed in a polite greeting, his eyes cold. The viceroy was the entire reason he was languishing here in Baja, if he never heard word of the viceroy again it would be too soon. "Of course, Your Excellency. Please, sit down."

"I'm afraid I do not have time for that, I have many miles to ride yet today," said Cortez. "I am to give you this letter and gather a fresh steed and supplies and be on my way."

"Whatever you need, Your Excellency, my soldier will assist you." Monastario took the letter and the emissary left with haste.

Opening the letter Monastario found that his luck had changed indeed. A new viceroy had been appointed, the old one having apparently lost favor with the crown, and the new viceroy was even now in Mexico City. He was making his way northward through the Mexico territories and would be visiting the garrison and prison at Ensenada in the coming months. Monastario noted the name of the new viceroy and smiled. Diego de la Vega had used trickery and personal connections to the last viceroy to derail his career, well, two could play at that game.

* * *

Marcos was new in Buenos Aires, but he had to say he liked it. It seemed like a place with a lot of opportunity if a person was ready to take advantage. He had accumulated a small nest egg in his travels from California and he was ready to turn that egg into a chicken. He just needed to hang around for a few days, get the lay of the land, and find out who was ripe for the plucking. He had this all figured out. It was only too bad he had to run his schemes alone, having a partner made things a lot easier.

Entering the tavern where he was staying he saw that it was lively with music and dancing. People were clapping their hands, some were singing, and a couple of men were playing the upbeat tune on guitar. Several couples whirled around the floor of the tavern, apparently enjoying the cheerful atmosphere.

Marcos rolled his eyes. He now had to try and make his way across the dance floor in order to make it to the staircase to his room. What perfect timing he had.

Attempting to bully his way across the floor in the nicest way possible, he managed to run afoul of one of the pairs of dancers, bumping into them as they jigged across the open space.

"Excuse me, _señor,"_ he started, then gaped.

"Marcos! My old friend," said Ramón, "I was wondering how long it would take to find you. Here, join us in our little celebration." Going to the edge of the floor he pulled another girl to join him. "There's more than enough to go around." He winked at the girl in question.

The girl smiled and blushed, then Ramón pushed her into Marcos' arms.

Taking the girl into his arms, Marcos looked at Ramón suspiciously. "What happened in Los Angeles? Did you finally put this business with de la Vega behind you?"

Ramón looked over the shoulder of the woman he was holding. "For your first question, far too much to answer here, I will tell you about it some other time. As for your second question," he broke into a broad smile, "the answer is: never."

The End


End file.
